


you're looking glamorous (let's get mischievous)

by plinys



Category: Rush (2013)
Genre: F/F, makeout sessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-08 11:38:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1132179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plinys/pseuds/plinys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Suzy goes to see what's all the fuss about racing she ends up meeting somebody who entices her to come back again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you're looking glamorous (let's get mischievous)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nolightss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nolightss/gifts).



> The ever lovely nolightss asked for Suzy and Marlene and femslash and I was more than happy to provide just that.
> 
> Also wow its 3am and I suck at writing summaries. 
> 
> Title is from The Cult of Dionysus by The Orion Experience.

James had insisted that she come to the race, she had been to one once and had found it a bit dull. Oh, it was wonderful when James won, and the night that would follow that, but when he lost he was cross with everyone including her and Suzy found no reason to go to the races. Normally her schedule helped with the excuses she needed to make, but this time there was nothing for her to film, nothing to model and Suzy found she had no reason not to be there.

Still, once the race had begun she found herself caught in a state that was a mix between stressed for James and bored of the colorful affair. The men so caught up in their cars forgot that there was a lady among them and Suzy grew tired of standing in the pits and instead moved between the different ones searching for some form of a distraction from the dangers that she could so clearly see in front of her.

That distraction came soon enough as she crossed between the pits and noticed a woman about her age watching the track. Unlike many of the girls who were there as eye candy for the racers, a position that no doubt many who did not know her would assume that Suzy belonged to, this woman stood as if she owned the place. Dark hair pulled back in a tight bun, sunglasses over her eyes, a look that was a mix between fatigue chic and runway, but seemed to fit the atmosphere of the racetrack perfectly.

Without hesitating Suzy moved towards where she stood, speaking up before she can think twice. “Is it always this stressful,” Suzy asks, eyes on the track, when the other woman doesn’t answer she continues, “I’ve only really ever watched them on the tv, but James was insistent that I come to one.”

This seems to catch the other woman’s attention now, as she turns away from the track to look at Suzy. She cannot read the expression in her eyes for they are trapped behind aviator glasses, but there is a small smile at the edge of her lips one that seems almost welcoming and seems to put a bit of her worries at ease.

 “Always,” Marlene answers, “eventually you get used to it, might even learn to like it.”

Suzy wonders what that must be like, to enjoy the rush of it. She admits that she is fascinated by the cars, but for her they seem like nothing more than a hobby a fleeting bit of entertainment that is not worth the danger.

“And you then, you like the stress,” she asks.

“Yes.”

Her eyes slowly move back to the track, “A lot of risk all for nothing, don’t you think? It’s a little boring, with them just driving in circles all the time. I keep wishing something exciting would happen, but…”

But they both knew what exciting meant, and it wasn’t a good thing, and the silence that fills the gap between Suzy’s unfished comment makes that much clear.

“I didn’t introduce myself, Suzy Miller, I mean Hunt,” Suzy corrects offering a hand.

“Marlene,” she replies extending her hand.

It’s then while shaking hands that something happens, there’s a commotion on the track and Suzy tenses at the sound, Marlene less so, she must be used to this. Yes, Suzy had seen them on the tv before, but in person was another matter entirely and she worries for James for a moment, grip tight on the friendly hand that meant to hold briefly before, now Suzy held onto it like a lifeline.

Her practiced poise seems all forgotten in a moment of worry and panic.

She doesn’t release her hand until the news spreads through to the pits, it’s a flat tire nothing more, nobody is really hurt and she lets out the breath she hadn’t realized that she had been holding.

The terror she had felt before is squashed by a sort of rush, not like the one that James remarks upon while drunk, the fear of death turning people on, but oh, she can definitely see the allure.

It’s only then as Marlene takes her hand back that Suzy speaks up, “I think I might like it.”

She lets out a soft laugh at that, a comforting laugh, “most find that they do,” but as she says those words it sounds to her ears like that what they’re talking about is so much more than the race.

As the caution is lifted and the racer picks up again it seems almost natural that when their fingers accidently brush against each other they clasp hands, and Suzy is no longer certain whose benefit it is for, but their fingers lace together and she finds comfort in the grasp, something that grounded her to this place as her eyes watched the blurs on the track.

Boys and their toys, chasing death as if it was a game and not thinking of the people they left behind on the sidelines.

Its subconscious, she’s not used to holding other people’s hands, that is how she justifies it as she runs a thumb across the back of Marlene’s hand, though in the back of her mind she knows that is no real excuse. However, when the other woman responds back by squeezing her hand tightly she knows at once that she was not mistaken in what she had been thinking, not the only one with such thoughts.

“I think,” Suzy starts making excuses, loud enough that the people around them would surely, “that I have this hat which would complement your shirt perfectly.”

“Oh,” Marlene remarks, its casual but to a point, and nobody would suspect a thing.

“I left in in James’ trailer, if you don’t mind, I could show you,” she says, repeating the action with her thumb again.

“Now?”

“Now would be perfect.”

Their hands flutter apart for a brief moment as Suzy leads the way back to an abandoned trailer, one that nobody will check up on for a while, and once they’re inside she locks the little door. There is a television in the room that plays the race and for a second she thinks about turning it off, instead though she moves over to the hat she left sitting on the table, a wide brim that is most certainly Hollywood chic not distressed girlfriend of a racecar driver.

They’re still playing that coy game where neither wants to speak the real reason that they’re there, the air seeming a bit too fragile, so Suzy offers the hat up, before realizing the tight bun that Marlene keeps her hair up in would cause a slight problem with her ruse.

She must realize it at the same time, for Marlene speaks up, “I’d have to let my hair down to put it on.”

“Let me help,” Suzy offers crossing the room towards where the other woman is and at her not, she brings her hands up to begin pulling out pins from the tightly done updo, the proximity is distracting and she’s not sure who leans in first, but this has been long enough coming that it doesn’t matter.

One second Suzy’s got her hands searching for bobby pins and the next she’s got a hand fisted in that bun. Their lips are upon each other, the desperation that kept their hands together in their initial meeting is clear there, and she’s kissed women before, slightly tipsy at some Hollywood glam party, but this is nothing quite like this.

It is instead a struggle for power and needs and desperation.

And she finds that she quite likes it.

The only noises between them are soft purrs of pleasure and breathless gasps as they pull apart only for the briefest of moments before continuing where they left off, distantly Suzy hears the sound of the announcer on the tv giving them a play by play of the race that they’re missing, but she can’t find it in herself to care.

Not as he hands slip down to pull those glasses off of Marlene’s eyes and she notices the rich brown that meets her own, before a hand slides down to the front of her blouse.

Why is it that another woman treats her better than in this sort of coupling than her husband ever has?  

Though Suzy cannot find herself able to maintain the thought a hand slips her coat off her shoulder and light fingers ghost her skin as they unbutton her shirt, she mirrors the action without much hesitance, pushing back against Marlene so that she is backed up against the table sitting in the center of the room. Suzy is standing in the position of power, but she feels as if she is not the one who has it, and she rejoices in that feeling the one that has her giggling under her breath, the rush from watching the race is no rush at all compared to this feeling.

Had they more time something more might have happened, but there is a commotion outside, cheering and they pull apart hastily, cheeks flushed,  her eyes turn to the tv that had been left on as an announcer reads off the results of the race. James has come in second, and that brings a brief frown to Suzy’s face until she realizes what the smile on the other woman’s face means, and doesn’t even need to look to see who won.

“You should get out there,” Suzy says, “we both should.”

“We should,” she agrees hesitantly and they separate quickly righting their clothing into some appearance of normality, though as she glances in the mirror she must realize that it’s a hopeless endeavor, hands flying up in an attempt to fix the hair that Suzy had worked so hard to mess up.

“I have a hat,” Suzy offers, a playful grin on her place, for that hat was exactly what had gotten them back here in the first place, and this time she helps Marlene fix her hair with haste, securing the hat on her head.

It’s showy, but it does match the blouse perfectly, just as Suzy had been so certain of before.

As she is taking one last look in the mirror Marlene pauses, “you’ll come to the next race,” it’s a question, though one spoken with certainty and hope.

“I suppose I will,” she responds trying for coy, “I have grown quite fond of them.”

They share a smile at that.

“Now,” Suzy says as that's all settled, “shall we congratulate our boys?”


End file.
